


all along I was your home

by verdenal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verdenal/pseuds/verdenal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killing Peter Hale the second time is a lot like killing Peter Hale the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all along I was your home

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super excited and also terrified to be writing Teen Wolf fic. Title comes from Beirut's "Transatlantique". This ignores a lot of later Season 2 stuff, so Jackson is still a lizard and Peter is a villain and not a sass-machine.

Killing Peter Hale the second time is a lot like killing Peter Hale the first time. The setting is, once again, the crumbling Hale house and the cast is the same, minus Kate but plus Gerard and Lydia on the sidelines because no one is totally sure whether or not she’s a threat, and they do burn him again, but only after he’s been killed. If Stiles had known that Supernatural was actually a valid source of information they could have avoided all of this by doing it right the first time around.

When it’s done he asks, “Why do you burn the bodies?”

Chris looks not at Stiles when he answers, but at Derek. “Fire purifies.”

 

Killing Peter Hale the second time is a lot like killing Peter Hale the first time, except that the wolf standing over his dead body isn’t Derek. It’s Scott, Scott who never thinks things through, Scott who is probably still just thrilled that he managed to get in between Peter and Allison, Scott who has blood dripping down off his claws, Scott who’s the Alpha now, Scott who just killed someone. Stiles might be having a vicarious panic attack. 

He doesn’t really have time for that, though, in between the burning and the mutual glaring and silence and eventually shuffling Scott and Derek and a wide-eyed, shaking Lydia into his car. He only leaves after the Argents, even though he knows they have better things to do now that Gerard is dead than follow Stiles home.

Leaving Lydia on her front porch with a promise to check on her tomorrow is exactly the sort of behavior that got them into this shit, but Stiles has to prioritize, and Scott covered in blood and staring at his hands and Derek is possibly shell-shocked. It’s hard to tell, since he has exactly two facial expressions: human and werewolf. 

Stiles continues his trend of making the same terrible choices that have already been proven to be terrible when he forces Scott and Derek to go through his bedroom window. His dad and Scott’s mom may know about the whole lycanthropy thing and, yeah, that basically everyone wants them dead, but he doesn’t think anyone is ready to talk about what just happened. If he didn’t think that something could go terribly wrong he would have just left Derek in the woods and taken Scott home, but Scott was the worst werewolf for a long time so there’s a good chance he’ll be the worst Alpha for a while. At this point Stiles just wants to minimize the casualties.

He ushers Scott towards the bathroom and then looks up at Derek. He clearly doesn’t want to be here, but Stiles doesn’t exactly want him here either. No one is happy about this situation.

“I just, I need to make sure Scott doesn’t power-trip or something and try to kill everyone, or rile up the betas and I’m not going to be able to stop him if that happens.”

“And I will?”

Stiles wants to punch Derek for being deliberately obtuse. “You stand a better chance than I do, asshole, and you might be able to like, coach him through this or something.”

Derek doesn’t have a response to that, mercifully and when Scot returns Derek heads to the bathroom without any prompting. He can probably hear everything that they say, but Stiles appreciates the illusion of privacy.

Scott won’t look at him, but at least his hands are clean now.

Stiles wants to talk, but he knows that impulse has never been a shared one, so he crowds into Scott’s space and pulls him into a hug. Scott stays stock-still for a moment before his arms come up around Stiles and squeeze. He presses his face into the junction of Stiles’s neck and shoulder and Stiles pretends he doesn’t feel the tears wetting his skin as he rubs Scott’s back.

“It’s okay,” he doesn’t say, because he knows it’s a lie.

 

As soon as they’re both up the next morning, Stiles packs Scott off to go explain everything –everything, he stress—to his mom. Once Scott is out of the door Stiles gets ready to brave the hurricane that is Lydia. Derek, much to his surprise, is still there, sitting against the wall.

“I don’t know what to tell you to do,” he admits.

“That’s not really your job,” Derek says as he stands. “But I’m going to find the rest of the pack. They need to know what’s happened.”

Stiles has a million retorts but they’re all a little lacking, so he lets Derek escape and focuses on what he’s going to tell Lydia, rolling the words around in his head until he’s at her front door. When she answers she’s a beautiful as she has ever been, flawless even after everything that has happened, but Stiles wants to take a step back. If he had hackles they would be raised, he thinks.

Lydia leads him up to her room without saying a word, gestures to a chair, and places her hands on her hips. “You are going to explain everything,” she orders, “and maybe I’ll decide not to hurt you.”

Stiles had really hoped to be done with the bodily harm thing, at least for a few days. “What do you know?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, her smile sickly sweet. “Tell me everything.”

So Stiles does. He leaves out most of the editorializing because Lydia glares at him and he no longer knows exactly what she’s capable of. He tells her everything he can remember, right up until last night, and when he’s run out of things to say he starts apologizing. Lydia lets him babble like that for a while before she rolls her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me before? Any of you.”

“We just, we wanted to and we should have and we cared, we care, Lydia, we do. I do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she repeats.

Stiles doesn’t really know what to say. He knows why: other things were more important, but he can’t say that.

Lydia must know that, too, because she shakes her head. “That’s what I thought. Go home.”

“But…”

“Nothing’s going to happen, Stiles. It’s over.”

 

Talking to his dad is a lot harder. Relaying all the facts is easy, actually, and his dad is good at asking the right questions, at understanding what Stiles is saying underneath all the flailing at circumlocution. What’s difficult is the why. Stiles know his dad has a right to ask and to be concerned; he’d lost his job over all of this, and Stiles’s life is in a constant state of low-level danger. That doesn’t stop it from being uncomfortable.

“Everything’s calming down now, though. I promise!”

“Really,” his dad drawls, “because it sounds like Scott just assumed a position of power he isn’t ready for, and Chris Argent has half a dozen reasons to hunt all of you down.”

“He won’t,” Stiles promises with a confidence he doesn’t feel. “As for Scott, I’m helping him. He’ll be fine.”

“That’s what I want to talk about, Stiles.”

“Me helping Scott?”

“It’s dangerous! You’ve admitted it yourself. I don’t want you getting hurt just because you were being stubborn.”

“I’m not,” Stiles splutters, “I’m not just being stubborn, dad. Scott’s my best friend and there’s no way he’ll be able to handle this on his own, alright? I owe him at least this.”

“You don’t owe him anything,” his dad retorts.

“Yes, I do,” Stiles fires back. “This is all my fault, okay? Scott got bitten when I made him go look for Laura Hale’s body with me. So yes, I do owe him. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been an idiot.”

The look on his father’s face isn’t one he’s ever seen before, and it isn’t really one he ever wants to see again, but then his dad is sweeping him up into a hug and Stiles is trying and ultimately failing to not cry. He’s so tired, even though he slept last night it feels like he’s been running on empty for months, and maybe he has. He’s been trying to keep an eye on his dad and Scott and Lydia and Derek and the Argents, and he’s exhausted. He’s just a kid, he’s sixteen; he shouldn’t have to do this. But he remembers reading: childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.

 

Hours later he gets a text from Scott asking him to come over. Stiles is pleasantly surprised that Scott is taking any kind of initiative. He’s unpleasantly surprised to learn that Scott is at least equally if not more preoccupied with whether or not Allison will stay with him as he is about whether or not she’s going to try to shoot anyone. Judging by the angle of Derek’s eyebrows, he feels the same way.

He knows better than to try and derail Scott when he’s talking about Allison, so Stiles just lets him wind down and then says, “We need to talk to the Argents as soon as possible.”

Scott sighs. Derek starts forward like he’s going to do some wall-slamming, but stops himself. Scott being the Alpha might actually have some positive side effects, Stiles realizes.

“Fine, no I get it,” Scott admits. “What am I supposed to say, though?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Stiles tells him with a smile. “I’ve got it all figured out.”

 

School the next day is the most awkward experience of Stiles’s life. Lydia is only talking to Allison and Jackson, Jackson is ignoring Lydia and only talking to Danny, and Allison isn’t really talking much to anyone. The betas cluster around Scott in a way that Stiles would find funny, but it means they’re all up in his space, too. He can’t think about anything other than the meeting with the Argents after lacrosse practice and judging by Scott’s absent expression, he can’t either.

Derek meets them in the parking lot after practice, Camaro nowhere in sight. Stiles imagines Derek running all the way to the school from whatever creepy hovel he’d holed up in, and laughs to himself. Any levity drains right out of him as they park a block away from the Argent’s house, however. Scott looks like he’s going to throw up all over the hunters instead of negotiate with them. 

“Hey buddy,” Stiles says, snapping his fingers in front of Scott. “Remember, we want them out of the Hale house, to respect the Code for real, and we need to agree on a new master for Jackson. It’s a miracle he hasn’t already killed someone. I was thinking Danny, but we could budge on that one. Besides, Derek and I will be right there with you, so if you forget it won’t be a problem.”

“No,” Scott says. He doesn’t follow that up immediately, and Stiles wonders if that was some latent Tourette’s manifesting. 

“No,” Scott repeats. “I need to do this alone.” Before Stiles can respond he opens the door and slides out of the Jeep. “Wait here,” is the last thing he says.

Stiles huffs and slumps back into his seat. “Can you believe him?” He asks. “He’s going to get us all killed.”

“Probably,” Derek agrees from the back seat. Stiles nearly jumps out of his skin. He’d forgotten Derek was back there.

Derek isn’t leaving, which Stiles had figured he would do as soon as Scott entered chez Argent. “Wait,” Stiles says, trying to contain his glee, “are you staying here because your Alpha told you to?”

Derek won’t maintain eye contact, but he does growl, which Stiles takes to mean “yes, also shut up”.

Stiles considers spending the rest of the wait making fun of Derek, but Derek honestly has been pretty decent in the Alpha related freakout of the past forty or so hours. 

He manages to stay quiet for a couple of minutes, but he’s too full of nervous energy to keep his mouth shut any longer. “How much do you want to bet Scott’s arguing about whether he can date Allison or not right now?”

Derek actually laughs at that, and Stiles can’t quite tamp down on the smile that grows on his face.

 

The sun is almost done setting when Scott finally comes back.

“I got Allison to talk to me!” are the first words out of his mouth. Stiles starts laughing before he can think better of it, and he can hear Derek doing the same. 

Scott pouts until they’re done, and then continues. “I don’t think we’re dating,” he punctuates that with a sigh, “but she smiled at me so I think that’s a good sign. Oh, and she and her dad agreed to everything, sort of.”

“Sort of?” Stiles repeats.

“They’re still kind of out for Derek’s blood? I think they blame him for killing Allison’s mom.”

“You killed Allison’s mom?” Stiles yelps, turning to look at Derek.

“What? No.” Derek glares at Scott. “I bit Victoria, but it was something she could easily survive.”

“Why would you do something like that?” Stiles moans into his hands. 

“You didn’t tell him?” Derek asks Scott.

“Tell me what?” Stiles stares at Scott.

“She was trying to kill me,” Scott mumbles.

“And you didn’t think this was something you should share with the Argents?”

“Her mom’s dead, Stiles,” Scott says, raising his voice. 

Stiles honestly can’t reply to that. It feels like someone just punched him in the throat. He tries to give Scott a look that conveys exactly how much of an idiot Stiles thinks he’s being but probably just shows exactly how upset Stiles is. Either way, it works, since Scott slinks out of the Jeep and back towards the Argent’s house. Stiles refuses to look back to see what Derek thought of that little exchange. The idea that anyone saw that makes him want to set himself on fire. If he self-immolates, though, Scott will be stuck with Derek and Stiles doesn’t trust either of them to get his car home safely. 

“Scott’s an idiot,” Derek says. 

“Are you allowed to talk about your Alpha like that?” Stiles jokes. He doesn’t need to check to know that Derek is glaring at him. “He is, though,” Stiles agrees, sobering. “I don’t know how he’s going to manage being the Alpha.”

“He’ll figure it out. I did.”

“One, you’ve been a werewolf your whole life, and Scott hasn’t. Two, really? You think you had everything under control?”

“Are you saying I didn’t?”

“Uh,” Stiles honestly can’t tell if Derek is being serious or not. “Jackson, for starters. Thanks a lot for that one. You picked a bunch of needy, unpredictable teenagers and gave them superpowers, which I’m honestly surprised hasn’t backfired on you yet. I guess Boyd doesn’t seem too bad, but Erica and Isaac are accidents waiting to happen.”

He twists around to look at Derek, just in case he’s wolfing out and planning on killing Stiles. He’s still human, which is great, but he looks almost sad, which isn’t. Stiles isn’t sure if the emotion of Derek’s face is actually sadness or just the absence of anger. It makes him feel a little guilty either way, so he bites his lip and looks away from Derek and mumbles an apology.

Scott comes back and rescues them from the increasingly awkward silence with the good news. “Allison and her dad are really pissed at each other now, but I don’t think they want to kill Derek. So, fifty-fifty?”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but can’t help smiling. “More like ninety-ten, Scott. Let’s roll.”

 

They spend the next month and a half just getting everything back into some semblance of normality. Lydia refuses to have anything to do with them until everyone has properly begged for her forgiveness, and Jackson is almost as bad, though Danny keeps him in check. Erica, Isaac and Boyd have absolutely no respect for Scott, and in Erica and Isaac that manifests in blatant insubordination. Their first few attempts at pack meetings turn into screaming fights and then real fights without exception. Derek just stands and watches. Stiles thought at first that Derek was trying to let Scott prove that he could never be the Alpha Derek was, but now Stiles isn’t so sure that’s it. 

There’s only a few days left until the full moon, so everyone is sitting in Derek’s decrepit house pretending they know what they’re doing. Stiles stopped listening like ten minutes ago because he can recognize when Scott is just bullshitting, and it’s not like any of this really applies to him anyway. He’s here for like, solidarity. Erica mouths off and Scott growls at her, and that gets Stiles’s attention. Scott’s eyes glow red, but Erica has a couple of inches on him with her heels and Scott isn’t the type to throw her around to teach her a lesson, and throw her hard enough that she’d think twice about getting up.

That’s the moment Stiles finally gets it. It’s too late for him to do anything right now, but the knot of panic that’s been sitting in his throat since Peter came back is finally loosening. He looks over at Derek, who’s watching Scott with his usual blank face and thinks, yeah, he’s got this one right. Derek actually isn’t trying to undermine Scott or ruin Stiles’s life indirectly or anything like that. This is how he ran his pack, though Stiles is willing to bet there was a lot less mouthing off, and he thinks Scott just needs to learn how to be like Derek.

The problem of course, is that Scott is not Derek and will never be Derek. Derek’s has inches and pounds and years and years of experience on Erica and Isaac and Boyd and as far as they’re concerned Derek was just their Alpha, some brooding older guy who hung out in a suitably stereotypical lair and taught them how to be werewolves. Scott is their classmate and he’s stupid and goofy and hopelessly in love. He’s their peer. 

Everything will be fine for now, since the very genuine threat of Chris Argent will keep the betas from disobeying Scott and leaving the cells in Derek’s basement (and Stiles sort of hates that he lives a life where that is a normal thing for him to think), but soon, everything will be better.

 

“You need to change it up,” Stiles tells Scott three days after the full moon. 

“What?” Scott looks bleary-eyed and confused. It is a Monday morning after a full moon weekend, so Stiles cuts him some slack.

“I’ve figured out the problem with the pack.”

“We have a problem?” 

Stiles gives up at that point. Scott will come around before the day’s over, he’s sure. It’ll be better if Scott tells Stiles what he thinks the problem is, anyway. 

Scott is visible distracted during most of their shared classes, and Stiles hopes that he’s thinking about the Pack at least ten percent of the time. He isn’t an idiot, and Scott’s increasingly lovelorn and pathetic glances in Allison’s direction aren’t exactly subtle. Allison is doing champion-level work at ignoring Scott, but she doesn’t look angry anymore so Stiles figures she’ll break and talk to him before the week is out. Scott is much more obvious, but Stiles knows well enough that Allison had always reciprocated Scott’s feelings with equal intensity.

Scott comes up to him after practice and says, “Yeah, the betas are kind of being assholes and Derek won’t help me.”

Stiles is almost always right about Scott. It’s one of the few things he’s been able to trust through this whole experience. “Dude, okay. I think it might be super simple. Stop trying to be like Derek. That strategy didn’t even work for Derek, really.”

“But I’m the Alpha,” Scott whines.

“I know, bro, I know. And so do the betas.” Stiles pauses for a moment, wondering how best to phrase this for Scott. He’d been trying to think of a Buffy analogy, but realized pretty quickly that only he would understand it. 

Scott is frowning at him in confusion, so Stiles huffs a breath out and starts to talk. “You need to like, stop trying to be their superior all the time. They’re our classmates, I mean. They know you. The whole pack thing worked with me and Allison because we were friends. Try being their friend first, and then maybe their boss?”

Scott looks absolutely wrecked when Stiles mentions Allison, but he nods. “That might work.”

Stiles snorts. “Might?”

“I can’t get any worse, at least,” Scott says, and Stiles knocks on wood.

 

Scott doesn’t get worse. If anything, he gets markedly better. The going is excruciatingly slow, though. It makes sense, given the pack is composed of deeply scarred teenagers, most of whom don’t really know what having a real family is like.

By the end of the school year the dynamics have started to firm up. Erica, Isaac and Boyd spend almost all their time together. Boyd has given Erica some grounding and she’s loosened him up, and they’ve both helped Isaac. They treat Derek like their older brother, and even Scott usually defers to him on matters of physical training. When a witch shows up on the edges of their territory and Isaac runs into her, the first person he goes to is Scott. He actually asks Scott what to do, and Scott isn’t a total bonehead about it. He doesn’t even have to come running to Stiles because things have gotten out of hand, which is disconcerting and almost upsetting.

Stiles isn’t out of a job. The rest of the pack doesn’t like research and they don’t have the patience or the skills for it anyway, but it still feels weird. Scott has always been the Alpha in their little pack, maybe, but he’s spent his life going to Stiles for help. He feels unmoored without Scott constantly needing him, not that Stiles would ever admit it.

Maybe that’s why he ends up spending so much time with Derek. Derek is a little lost, too. He looks like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders now that he’s just a beta again, but he also doesn’t know what to do without the burden. They talk while Derek makes the betas run laps or play a glorified version of hide-and-seek in the woods, they talk while Stiles flips through disintegrating books for information about malevolent dryads. They talk at meetings and before and after them, largely about nothing. 

Somewhere along the line Stiles realizes they’ve become friends. He can pinpoint the exact moment when it became clear to him: the pack meeting is over, and they’re all huddled around Derek’s one table, eating pizza off of napkins. School is starting soon, and that means Allison’ll be back in town—she and her dad spent the summer doing whatever hunters think of as a vacation—and they’re all joking about how preoccupied Scott is going to be when he’s around her again. Stiles is doing a great bit where he pretends Scott is describing the pack’s top secret mission for the new school year: getting Allison to date him again. Everyone is laughing, Scott included, and suddenly Stiles notices that everyone actually means everyone, not everyone but Derek.

Derek is laughing, too, and he is pressed up against Stiles’s side and Stiles thinks _Huh, I could get used to this_.

 

After that Stiles starts spending time with Derek outside of the pack. Mostly he just hangs around the Hale house and needles Derek about fixing the place up while he pretends to do his homework.

“Don’t you have practice?” Derek asks one day, slumping down next to Stiles on the couch.

“It’s almost like you don’t enjoy me being here,” Stiles teases.

“I’m just curious,” Derek says. He still doesn’t quite know how to handle joking.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Stiles says. “Anyway, no. I like lacrosse, not benchwarming. When you’ve got three werewolves and a kanima in the line-up, us regular humans have a pretty hard time even getting on the field. It was fun, but…”

Derek has no response, but Stiles doesn’t take it personally. He just keeps talking. “I don’t even have that much free time because there are always supernatural shenanigans going on. Lydia and I are trying to find out if Jackson can get along without a master, because that’s kind of creepy. Danny’s doing a good job, though, not to knock him or anything but I wouldn’t want to be responsible for Jackson all the time.”

“He still needs a calming influence,” Derek tells him.

“Obviously. We haven’t found anything yet, so this is more of a long-term project. Like, hopefully before he goes to college.”

“Right.” Derek sounds uneasy. Stiles wonders if it’s the college thing, which he knows is going to lead to a lot of terrible and sort of hilarious arguments. 

They don’t talk after that, but Derek stays a warm presence at Stiles’s side, so it’s a start.

 

Scott calls him out on it after a few weeks.

“I thought you were all for pack bonding,” Stiles protests.

Scott looks crestfallen. “It’s just weird, that’s all. Derek is kind of weird. I thought he hated everyone, anyway.”

“He’s just kind of awkward, I think.” Stiles shrugs. “Plus, someone needs to be telling him to fix the place up. I’m doing us all a favor here, if you think about it.”

Scott lets it go, but he gives Stiles a weird look.

 

“Scott thinks it’s weird that we hang out,” Stiles says as he wanders into Derek’s house.

“It is weird.”

“Is it? I mean, I guess so? I have no idea what I’m doing, really.”

Derek snorts. 

“To be fair,” Stiles continues, babbling because at this point he’s realized that it is weird that he hangs out with Derek so much and he doesn’t want to think about why, “no one else in this town really knows what they’re doing either. Don’t give me that look,” because Derek is, “you had no idea what you were doing.”

“Calm down,” Derek says.

“I am calm,” Stiles lies. Derek gives him a look and, right, werewolf super-senses.

Derek lets him sit in silence for five minutes as he pretends to do homework, but Stiles can feel Derek watching him. It is extremely creepy. Eventually Derek asks, “So why are you here?”

“I can leave,” he says. It’s a not a mature response, and he knows what Derek really meant, but sometimes Stiles just wants to be petty and obnoxious.

Derek doesn’t say anything, but he looks put-upon. At least, that’s what Stiles thinks the twitching eyebrows mean.

“I don’t know, ok? I just don’t know what to do now—not that hanging out with you isn’t great or whatever. Everything’s changing and I don’t need to clean up after Scott all the time. So, here I am. I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“It makes enough,” Derek tells him.

After that it falls back into routine: Stiles working and chattering at Derek, Derek commenting whenever he feels like it’s necessary, their arms pressed against each other.

Stiles thinks he’s starting to get it.

 

Stiles kisses Derek a month later. He can’t stand the pack’s will-they-won’t-they gossip. He knows Derek knows, too, but is just waiting because he’s an asshole and also super weird about their age gap, which, fair, but it’s still incredibly inconvenient. 

They’re alone at the Hale house before a Pack meeting, like always. Stiles comes early because he helps Derek figure out how not to alienate the room full of teenagers he’s talking to, and in a pack that includes both Scott and Jackson, that’s hard to do. They’re all being forced to really consider what they want to do for college, make long lists and short lists and take the SATs and look up scholarship information, and Stiles knows it’s only going to get worse. Derek needs all the help he can get.

It’s a lame excuse, but it’s the actual truth. Stiles is there to make sure Derek doesn’t say anything too stupid when he looks up at Derek and thinks Fuck it, and kisses him.

Derek isn’t shocked. Stiles telegraphs his movements and intentions really obviously, so when he kisses Derek he can feel Derek kissing back. It’s possibly the greatest thing that’s ever happened to Stiles. He never wants to stop, lets Derek press him down onto the couch and keep him there with his weight until the rest of the pack arrives and they untangle themselves slowly. Stiles doesn’t care if they get caught. It isn’t shameful, and it isn’t really secret, either.

No one says anything, but Erica is smirking and Scott looks a little uncomfortable, so Stiles knows there’s going to be a conversation later, and it is going to get a little weird. 

For now, though, the pack sits in a semicircle around Scott as he talks about the hunters that Chris Argent told him were headed this way. No one argues with his plan, even though Jackson still looks peeved at the idea of someone ordering him around. When Scott’s done they order pizza and sit around talking. Scott is whining about math homework with the betas, and Lydia is telling Jackson and Danny about the countries best math programs.

Stiles knows this peace won’t last. Beacon Hills is a supernatural magnet, so they’re going to wind up fighting vampires or something weirder by the end of high school. Scott will spend way too much time mooning over Allison. They are going to fight terrifically over what to do about college. Jackson is going to be a douche and Scott is going to be a blockhead and everyone is going to get on everyone’s nerves. It will be okay in the end, though. They’re pack, and that doesn’t ever change.

 _We’re going to make it_ , he thinks as he leans into Derek’s warmth. _We’re going to be all right_.


End file.
